Isn't it Delicate?
by TokiDokiIchinose
Summary: After an incident that leaves a mark on Viktor's skating reputation for the worst, he vanishes. Completely. No one has heard from him in months, and he hasn't reached out to anyone. He finds that the invisibility is lonely and slowly tearing at him. That is, until he encounters someone willing change all of his pain and suffering for the better.


Viktor's been in hiding from the media for a few years now. After supposedly stealing a program from some skater in the junior division, Viktor has gotten nothing but hate whenever he skated. So he took a break.

He was learning a lot about himself in this break, like how much he's actually relied on skating in his life. Not going to the rink every day feels odd. Not seeing Mila, Yuri, Georgi and the others feels even weirder. On top of it all, Yakov hasn't called him at all. When he told his coach that he was leaving indefinitely, Yakov only nodded with parting words of hope of seeing him again on the ice.

This whole experience has been life-changing.

The most being that he realized just how much people had really been using him.

After stepping away from the spotlight, Viktor hasn't gotten a call from any of his supposed "friends". The only messages he received were angry ones from Yuri and sad ones from Mila.

It's been lonely.

Spending every day alone has made him think a lot more than he has before.

What if he never returned? What if he _did_ return? What would everyone say? Could he even skate again? Would he ever be happy again?

Happy... a concept so lost to him that he hardly knows what it means.

What would happiness truly mean? Love? No... no one could possibly love him. Not the way he is right now.

Would it be skating maybe only in shows? Skating competitively would be next to impossible, but maybe skating for fun could be an option. He could _never_ start his own show, that's for sure.

He needed fresh air. His apartment felt like it was suffocating him.

Viktor stood up from his huddled position on his couch and slipped his shoes on. Grabbing his coat on the way out, Viktor shut the door to his flat and walked down the stairs that led to the lobby. He nodded to the guard on duty and slipped out the front doors.

He moved after the incident took place, instead calling a cozy apartment in the east side of Manhattan his home. Hardly anyone recognized him here, except for the few encounters he's had. It was nice. It made his break seem more real. No paparazzi. No crowds waiting outside his door. No angry or violent letters coming in his mail. For once, his existence was peaceful. Something he wasn't sure he wanted yet.

Walking aimlessly without a real destination in mind, Viktor took the chance to clear his mind. This happens every now and then where Viktor can't stop questioning everything. Sometimes all it takes is a good movie and maybe a response to Mila. Other times, he never stops wondering if anyone would like him again.

Shaking his head, Viktor let the cool September air clear his mind.

After walking for about twenty minutes or so, he finds himself walking in the direction of a bar down the street. It's one he's passed a few times during one of his walks but has never gone in. He's tried his best to avoid bars, if he's being honest. Getting drunk is not something he wants to do in public. That could be very bad. Usually if he ever feels like drinking, he does so by himself in his apartment. No point in complaining to a bunch of strangers.

For a change of pace though, he decides that maybe he should give it a go. No one really remembers him anyway, he believes.

Viktor takes in a quick breath before pushing open the doors to the bar. It's classy, he immediately discovers. With a wooden counter and brick walls, it reminds him of a cafe he used to visit all the time with Mila. How times have changed.

There are groups of people milling around and talking with drinks in their hands. The atmosphere feels light, almost comforting. Almost. The fact that there are people who might take a picture with him appearing in the background and posting it on their social media scares him. People would comment on the photo, asking if that's Viktor and others responding in agreement. His accounts would blow up again with tags and comments and...

"What can I get for you?"

Viktor's head snaps up at the sound in front of him. He hadn't realized that he walked to the counter. There's a bartender standing behind the counter in front of him wearing a plain white dress shirt with an apron wrapped around his waist. His black hair is slicked back with a few stray locks hitting the top of his blue glasses. _Cute._ Viktor blocks the thought as soon as it comes. He can't get involved with anyone.

"I'll take a Jack Daniel's." It's a quick decision and one he wished he thought of better. He's not a huge fan of Jack Daniel whiskey, only really drinking it when he was with Chris. The corners of his lips turn upwards as he reminisces the times they would bar hop after competitions together. Then he's reminded about everything all over again.

The bartender stares at him for a moment before smiling back. "I'll be right back." He walks away to fulfill Viktor's drink order.

Viktor sits down at one of the bar stools available towards the back. He regrets coming in. There are too many people here, and he feels like he's suffocating again. Maybe he'll just put the money down for the drink and a tip and leave. That would be the considerate thing to do. Yeah, he'll just do that.

He's digging through his wallet when the bartender finds him and puts the whiskey down on the bar in front of him. "I always wear headphones when I'm in places like this by myself."

Viktor glances up at him and just stares dumbly at him. It takes him a moment to realize that he understands how Viktor feels. "I... That's a good idea. I should've thought of that before I left."

The bartender smiles again.

It's unsettling to Viktor that someone is able to smile in his presence. Doesn't he seem depressed to everyone? Can't anyone just feel the vibe he's giving off? Viktor looks at the bartender's name tag and has to stare at it for a moment before comprehending what it says. "Yuuri?"

The bartender follows Viktor's gaze down to his nametag before looking up again, this time with pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, that's me."

His name is similar to Yura's. Yura would kill Viktor if he ever told the younger Russian that. "How long have you been working here?" Viktor wants to kick himself for continuing the conversation.

"Uhh... two years I think. That sounds about right... I'm still not great at it, but I think I'm good enough to get by." Yuuri takes a few of the empty glasses lining the counter and takes someone's order after they've flagged him down. He leaves Viktor for a moment before returning with an empty glass in one hand and a small towel to clean it out with in his other.

Viktor takes a sip of the whiskey and wrinkles his nose at the taste.

Yuuri laughs lightly and it's almost not heard over the crowd of people. "Do you not like whiskey?"

Viktor puts the glass down and sighs in defeat. "Not really. I'm not much of a drinker anymore. I prefer wine over liquor nowadays."

"You should've said something." Yuuri leaves Viktor's end of the counter.

Viktor watches as he skillfully mixes another drink and returns with it in his hand. He raises an eyebrow as Yuuri sets it in front of him.

"It's a drink we make here. It's called Take It Easy Baby. On me."

Viktor pushes his whiskey away and pulls the new drink closer to him. It smells fruity, something closer to Sara Crispino's taste than his own.

"It's a blend of gin, aperol, campari, citron sauvage, grapefruit, and lime. I think it's more of what you're looking for."

Viktor raises the glass to his nose and smells it before taking a sip. He can still taste the liquor, but in a way that's accented rather than hidden. He finds himself enjoying it more than he thought he would've.

"Better?"

Viktor nods in response. "Much better."

Yuuri seems to sigh in relief. "I'm glad you like it. People usually only drink that with their meal."

A new crowd of people walk in, making the bar louder than it was before. Viktor looks at Yuuri carefully. Yuuri stares back as well.

"Yuuri, do you know who I am?"

Yuuri is pulled away before Viktor can even get the question out. To Viktor, it's a sign. One that is telling him to leave and pretend he never talked to him. Only Viktor's a little more persistent than he would like. So he stays. He waits for Yuuri to finish mixing drinks for the new customers and make his way back over to him. How selfish of him. He's stealing the attention of the bartender, who should be working. How _could_ he?

"What did you say?"

So Yuuri did hear him trying to talk. Oh well. Viktor shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm sorry. I should leave you alone. It's starting to pick up in here."

"It's okay. Really." Yuuri is wearing that same genuine smile from when he first started talking to Viktor. "I feel bad for talking to you when you probably just wanted to be alone. I didn't mean to be nosy."

Why is he apologizing? Viktor starts laughing before he even knows it. "You aren't nosy at all. I appreciate the company." Does he?

"I'm glad." Yuuri's smile has gotten brighter, like a glimpse of light in Viktor's dark world.

"I should leave, though. I have a dog at home I need to feed." It's not a complete lie. He does need to feed Makkachin. He's definitely trying to escape, though, before he takes Yuuri's light away.

"What kind of dog do you have?" Yuuri leans in a little bit, and his happiness is more suffocating than the noise or the crowd.

"Maybe I'll show you a picture some other time." Abruptly, Viktor puts his cash on the table and leaves the counter, heading straight for the door.

As he's about to walk out, he hears someone whisper his name. Whipping his head around to stare at the couple sitting at one of the tables lining the walls, he freezes in the doorway unable to move. The panic is setting in again. _Walk. You need to start walking. Let's go already!_

The woman squints her eyes at him before they widen in recognition. She leans in closer to the man across from her and begins whispering.

He understands enough. Viktor makes a break from it.

The wind whips at his face from every direction, but he doesn't feel like he can stop running. He was recognized. Someone knew him. They're going to talk about him being in New York. Does he have to move again already? California is big enough. Only there are two many people there who love talking more than they do here. Maybe he'll just wait a bit and see what happens. They don't know where he lives. _Yet,_ he reminds himself. All it takes is someone to wait at that bar, follow him home, and then they'll know.

Viktor breaks through the doors of his apartment building and finally takes a breath. He's panting, with his arms braced on his knees for support. The man sitting at the front desk looks over at him before going back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Viktor opts for the elevator this time, pressing the right button for his apartment. It takes a moment for it to come down to the lobby before Viktor can enter it.

Collapsing against the inside of it, he waits for the messages from Yakov or Mila or Yuri telling him that the media has found him.

Nothing happens.

Another moment of silence from his phone passes before he feels safe for the moment.

How come everything he does is like stepping on stones that float on water? If you aren't careful, you'll fall in.

Viktor is tired of falling.

.

. . .

.

It's been a few days since he went to the bar, and the only thing that has surfaced was a small article mentioning that he was there to visit another skate. It couldn't have been farther from the truth, but Viktor likes that the article doesn't have any real proof other than speculation. Whispers and rumors can only go so far, and he's grateful they stopped there.

He's actually considered going back to the bar. Maybe it's because he hasn't had a real friend in a while or talked to anyone recently, but he wants to see Yuuri again. He did say that he would show the bartender a photo of his dog. Makkachin would love that. Yuuri seems to really like dogs, too. What if Yuuri _met_ Makkachin... No. That couldn't happen. That would be pushing the boundaries, and he can't be doing that now.

Going back there wouldn't be a bad idea, though. He could stop by for lunch. There's not really anything to eat in his fridge anyway.

Getting changed faster than he should, Viktor's out the door in mere minutes. Finding himself practically running down the stairs and jogging to the bar, he tries to set his pace at a slower speed. Showing up sweaty would probably make Yuuri look at him in disgust. It's a long walk, too.

Viktor regrets not calling for an Uber. He's going to end up burning holes in his designer shoes.

It takes longer than he likes before he walks into the bar, immediately scanning the counter for Yuuri the bartender. Only he's nowhere to be found. Viktor sulks over to a table and sits down, his stomach growling being the only thing that holds him there now. A waiter comes over with a smile that seems fake and takes his order. The drink Yuuri suggested to him is in his hands now as he sits and waits for his food to arrive.

Someone bursts through the doors of the bar, seemingly out of breath. It's like they've run the same distance as Viktor.

"I'm so sorry, Phichit! The traffic on the west side was miserable today and I left later than I was supposed to!" Bundled in a thick scarf and a jacket to match, the person runs behind the counter and disappears in the back.

The on Viktor suspects is Phichit starts laughing behind the counter, screaming after his friend. "Just hurry, Yuuri!"

Yuuri. _Yuuri's here. That was Yuuri._ Baffled Viktor keeps staring at the counter, waiting for Yuuri to appear again. It takes a few minutes before Yuuri slams open the swinging doors to the kitchen with his apron tied around his waist, the same blue frames adorning his face only his hair is all over the place. Phichit walks over to him and tries to fix his hair, laughing hysterically at his friend. Yuuri tries to swat his friend's hands away and somehow his brown eyes meet the blue of Viktor's. Phichit follows Yuuri's gaze and tries to cover his laughter.

Viktor smiles and waves at him, gaining a smile and a tiny wave in return.

Phichit slaps Yuuri's back and makes his way to the kitchen. Yuuri lurches forward and says something to his friend before turning back to the counter and sighing.

Viktor watches as Yuuri cleans the counter top and smiles every time Yuuri quickly glances up at him. It's only a little bit longer before Yuuri comes over to his table, cheeks redder than they were the last time they met but that could be because of the cold weather.

"Hi." Yuuri stands in front of his table with a notepad in his hands.

"Hey," Viktor doesn't hesitate in responding.

"So um... you're back?"

He says it like it's a question, and Viktor has to laugh because of course he is. "I am, yes. Your friend made my drink, but if I'm being honest, I like the way you made it the last time better."

"Oh," is all Yuuri responds with, avoiding eye contact like he's embarrassed. Viktor made him embarrassed. Interesting.

"How have you been?"

Yuuri scratches his neck with the hand that's holding the pen. "Okay. How about you?"

There seems to be more behind the "okay", but Viktor doesn't say anything about it. "I'd say around the same."

Yuuri nods and doesn't respond until he seems to realize why he came over. "Oh! Did you want anything to eat? Unless someone already took your order?"

Viktor reassures him with a shake of his head indicating a no. "Not yet, no. What would you suggest?" He pretends to stare at the menu before looking up at Yuuri. "I trust your suggestions."

"Well... a lot of people like the classic burger or the pimento burger at this time..."

"They both sound good. Hmm... I'll try the pimento burger then. If I'm going to order the same drink, I should probably have something a little different this time." Viktor smiles as he hands Yuuri the menu.

Yuuri nods and rushes to the kitchen. For the next hour or so, their conversations go about the same way with Yuuri nervously running away and Viktor trying to get more of a response out of him. He doesn't seem to mind the bare minimum responses, though. They're different. No questions about what he's done or his skating career. Nothing about his personal life. Just a regular conversation back and forth.

When Yuuri hands him the bill, Viktor makes sure to stop him before he runs away again. "Oh, wait. I meant to show you the picture of my dog."

Yuuri seems confused for a moment until he seems to remember why Viktor would want to do that. "I almost forgot."

Viktor pretends to gasp in shock. "How could you? Makkachin is the best dog." Viktor pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and reveals the cutest picture he can find to Yuuri.

Yuuri gasps as well, only in real surprise as he sees the photo and takes Viktor's phone to get a closer look. "So cute! Makkachin seems like an amazing friend." Yuuri hands Viktor his phone back and is grinning ear to ear.

"You have no idea. Makkachin is the best." They talk about Viktor's dog for a bit longer before Yuuri is pulled to the counter by his friend.

Viktor smiles as he grabs the check and the pen Yuuri left him and begins writing his phone number at the bottom. He tips generously and heads out of the bar, giving Yuuri one last wave as he leaves.

.

. . .

.

It's only been a few years, but Viktor has been staring at his phone longer than when he first decided to go on a break. Yuuri hasn't texted OR called him. What if he never does? Maybe giving him his number was too big a step. They hardly know each other. Viktor probably just seems desperate. Yuuri won't-

Viktor's phone vibrates in his hand, almost making him drop the device.

It's just a simple "Hey", but Viktor knows exactly who it is.

Fumbling to actually type out a message, he manages to send back a greeting along with one of his favorite emoticons. Impatiently, Viktor starts tapping his index finger along the side of his phone. Why hasn't a reply come back yet? He knows he's being dramatic, but he can't help it. It's the first person he's met in so long.

His phone vibrates again.

 **dumb question whats ur name**

Dumbfoundedly, Viktor looks at the message and tries to think of the two encounters he's had with Yuuri. Has he really never mentioned his own name? Isn't that supposed to be the first thing you do when you meet someone new? Viktor really has lost it.

 **its viktor haha sorry**

It's the fifth copy of that message he's typed out, but he's given up and sends it to Yuuri. He's the idiot who didn't introduce himself. _Stupid._

 **nice 2 meet u viktor!**

 _God,_ Yuuri is an angel for not insulting him. Yura back in Russia would be laughing at him until the end of time if he knew about it. Mila would mock him _forever_ over it. Georgi would be too busy gushing over their entire meeting.

 **nice to meet you too yuuri** **(ノ*゜** **゜*)** **ノ**

He really doesn't type like a twenty-seven year old. Wow. That would be troubling if Viktor wasn't as flamboyant as he is.

They exchange texts back and forth until the sun is past gone and it's well into the night. They only decide to stop when Yuuri mentions having a shift in the morning and really needing sleep. Unfortunately for him, that results in Viktor asking more questions than he probably wants to answer at this time. Yuuri gives him a quick response before saying how he really needs sleep to wake up as early as he does in order to get there. They send each other goodnights and promises to talk again sometime.

Viktor is smiling like an idiot as he scrolls through their entire conversation. Yuuri is just so interesting. If Yuuri would let him, Viktor could spend a day just asking him questions about his life. He's apparently originally from Japan but moved to New York for a college opportunity he was given. As hard as it was to part with his family, Yuuri agreed and took on the scholarship, moving the next week to where he lives now on the Upper West Side. It then sparked the question as to why he took on a bartender job on the opposite side of where he lives. His reply is what sparked curiosity in Viktor. He goes to AMDA College and Conservatory of the Performing Arts as a dance theatre conservatory student. Viktor tried to get more information out of him, but he kept trying to ask Viktor about himself.

Now, the reasonable decision would've been to maybe lie his way through what he does or just tell him the truth as it is right now. He does absolutely nothing. How he can afford to live in an apartment on the Upper East Side is well beyond even himself. That could make for a funny conversation and could even give Viktor an opening to ask Yuuri more questions.

Instead, he avoiding talking about himself like the plague he believes he is. Laughing off whatever question Yuuri threw at him and sidestepping it with a completely different question for the other. Yuuri didn't really seem to understand why, but from Viktor's end, he seemed to take it and just roll with it. Viktor was expecting him to try and dig out an answer, but that never happened. Yuuri is an enigma that Viktor will never understands, it seems. Everything Viktor thinks he'll do, he never does. He's surprising in the best way, and Viktor finds himself enjoying it more than he should allow himself.

Adding to the abnormality he thought would drive Yuuri away, when asked if he could see Viktor again - maybe lunch he suggested - Viktor obviously declined with an immediate text. Yuuri didn't question it. He didn't push Viktor away. He didn't stop responding. He just kept answering Viktor's selfish and intruding questions.

If someone was as shady as he was to Yuuri, Viktor would've dropped the person faster than he usually drops his phone. Truly an enigma.

.

. . .

.

Only a week later does Yuuri actually ask again to meet up. Viktor has yet to go back to the bar in fear of people seeing him out and about in the same place multiple times and talking to someone there. It would only look awful for Yuuri, too. He _can't_ involved the full time student and part-time bartender in his own problems. That would be the most selfish thing he's ever done, and that's saying a lot. Yakov can attest to that.

On the other side, Viktor doesn't want to deny Yuuri. He _really_ wants to see the bartender again. Badly. He's been pacing back and forth, trying to come up with an answer for the past few minutes. He's sure not answering right away has given Yuuri the impression that Viktor wants nothing to do with him. That's very far from the truth, though! Viktor just doesn't know how to make anything work. Everything is just so... delicate. One person recognizing him would end it all.

Taking a deep breath, Viktor sits down on his couch and picks up his phone. Pressing the text box, Viktor hovers over the keyboard that pops up but not settling on a response. And then it hits him. No one knows he's living in this apartment. There's been no news articles, no reports in any of the gossip magazines he's appeared in before, nothing. It's as if he's vanished.

Furiously typing, Viktor comes up with the perfect idea, sending it to Yuuri in record time.

Yuuri seems to be thinking on his end, too, because Viktor gets the notification that he's typing over and over again before the message comes through.

 **Id love to! Whats your address?**

Yuuri is going to visit him at his apartment. Oh no. Yuuri is coming here. Viktor glances around his apartment and cringes. It's a mess and hardly looks lived in. He didn't bring anything from his flat in Saint-Petersburg, insisting that his break be as real as possible. There's _nothing_ here. Not only that, but he still has yet to go grocery shopping, which means there's no food at his place. How are they supposed to eat if Viktor has nothing? He cringes again as he sends a message to Yuuri asking if he'd be okay with delivery. Yuuri, of course, sends him back nothing but positivity. How did Viktor find such an amazing person?

Yuuri still has a shift until two, so Viktor has little over an hour to clean his place up and make it suitable for a guest. He takes _full_ advantage of that hour.

Picking everything off the floors and sweeping like no tomorrow, Viktor finds himself sore when he's done. There's still fifteen minutes before Yuuri comes, so obviously Viktor spends that time worrying. He's nothing but excited for the visit, but there's that fear and anxiety creeping up into him again. The what ifs are back and tenfold what they were earlier.

Maybe he should see someone about all this worrying he's been doing over every little thing because fifteen minutes passed by so much quicker than he thought it would.

There's a knock on his door, which can only be Yuuri. Or so he hopes. He'll have other problems if it isn't him.

Viktor makes his way over to the door and peeks through the peephole in the door just to confirm that it's him before opening it.

"Hi." Viktor is brimming with worries and jitters as he stares at the man before him.

Yuuri's hair is frazzled from working all morning, glasses askew on his face. He's wearing the typical uniform - white dress shirt, black pants, and a pair of Nikes. In his hands, he's caring what's obviously his work shoes. It's an indicator that he commutes, and the only one an outsider would be able to find.

"Hi." Yuuri says the one word a little breathlessly, as if Viktor isn't real and will disappear any moment.

Viktor feels exactly the same way about him. He steps to the side and gestures to the inside of his apartment with an open arm. "Please, come in." When did his voice get so scratchy? He must sound like an idiot.

Yuuri nods and ducks his head, following Viktor's gesture inside. Viktor shuts the door behind him and offers to take Yuuri's jacket, to which he agrees.

Yuuri just stands in the middle of his apartment, glancing around at everything. He's probably looking for any sign of Viktor being a murderer.

"It's empty, I know. Um... I don't really have anything..." Viktor finds his voice trailing off, but there's nothing he can really say. _Oh, sorry. All my belongings are in my other flat in Russia. By the way, I'm a shunned figure skater, who's currently on a break because everyone hates me._ Yes, that would go over nicely.

Yuuri shakes his head and heads over to the couch. "No, I like it. More furnishing than in my apartment."

Viktor joins Yuuri in laughing before deciding to join him on the couch. "Haven't you been living here for two years?"

"Well... yeah, I have. I spend most of my time traveling between school and work, so I haven't really had time to set anything up." Yuuri settles into the cushions and rubs at his arm nervously.

"Ahh, that would do it." Viktor knows what that's like, not that he can say that. Traveling all the time for skating took up a big portion of his time as well as training. It took him four years to be settled into his apartment like he is now. It's much more lived in than here. This place is just a hideaway for Viktor. Not really a home. Home is Saint-Petersburg, even if no one there likes him.

"How long have you been here?"

Viktor laughs nervously and scratches at his chin awkwardly. "Three years."

"You've been here for three years?" Yuuri leans forward with wide eyes and takes a look around the room again.

"I know, I know. It barely looks like I've been here a few months." Viktor starts fiddling with his fingers. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound rude!" Yuuri starts flailing around, waving his arms trying to dismiss Viktor's statement.

Smiling, Viktor puts a hand up to stop Yuuri's frantic apologies. "It's okay I promise."

"No hard feelings?"

He shakes his head. "No hard feelings."

Yuuri takes a deep breath. "Thank you."

It's adorable how worked up he gets over something so small. It's definitely a change of pace for Viktor.

... Did he just think Yuuri was _adorable_? They're supposed to be _friends_. Even that would be a miracle once he finds out who Viktor really is. That'll be a secret he can't really hide away forever if at all. Maybe...

"Yuuri, there's something I should-"

"Hey Viktor, what made you choose to live on the Upper East Side?"

"Oh." Maybe not now...? "I don't really remember. It is a quieter community if I'm being honest, but I definitely didn't know that going into renting this apartment." He laughs lightly. "I only really looked for a place that would have everything nearby. The destination didn't really matter."

"Destination?" Yuuri tilts his head to the side.

"Yeah... I wasn't really looking at apartments in New York specifically. I was trying to look for apartments away from Russia."

"Oh..." Yuuri gets quiet as he sits back in his seat seeming to debate something internally.

Viktor can relate. "You see, Yuuri. The thing is-"

Yuuri takes a deep breath. "I know."

Viktor stops working. His breath is caught in his throat, and he's not sure his mind is processing anything anymore either. "What?" he blurts out stupidly. Knows _what?_

"You're Viktor Nikiforov..." Yuuri closes his eyes and chews on his bottom lip, his head hanging low.

"I... huh?"

"You're Viktor Nikiforov, the five-time world gold medalist. You have more medals and trophies than anyone..." Yuuri gets quiet again, his voice trailing off at the end.

"How did you... How long...?" Viktor doesn't even know what to think. No... he _does_ know what to think. Yuuri's probably been using him all this time. After he leaves, he's probably going to tell everyone. Oh God. _Oh God._

"The whole time..."

Yuuri looks ready to cry, which doesn't make any sense to Viktor because that's how _he_ should feel. "Why are you really here then?" Viktor stares at Yuuri hard, anger in his eyes as he waits for the very response he doesn't want to hear. Not from Yuuri. Not from the very person he thought could turn everything around. The walls Viktor has kept himself in were just starting to finally crumble, but now he's trying to plaster them back up again.

"For you."

Can he really believe those words? He has before, and it's never ended well. The only ones he really believed were Yura, Mila, Georgi, and Yakov. That's it. He _thought_ he could trust Yuuri. Turns out he thought wrong. "No, you aren't. What do you want?"

Yuuri finally looks up, and there are tears welling in his eyes. _Why?_ "But I am."

"Why should I believe you?" Viktor glances away because he doesn't want to see him crying. His tears can't be real. There's something wrong. "No one stays without wanting anything."

"I want to get to know you. That's it. I want to know who Viktor Nikiforov really is. You don't have to believe me. I can't make you. I _can_ promise that I'm telling the truth."

"Yuuri..."

"I can't say I know how you feel, but I want to help you forget it. What they did was terrible to you. I _knew_ they were lying, but it caught on and everyone just... everyone _believed_ it! There was no real evidence! What they did-"

"Stop!" Viktor holds his head in his hands, trying to keep his mind from spinning any faster than it already is. "Just stop. Please."

"I'm so sorry... I'll just leave. I'm... I'm really sorry." Yuuri seems to choke out the words.

Viktor hangs his head as he hears Yuuri stumble out of his flat. He can't think anymore. The one time happiness could be an option for him, something goes wrong. It's been _years,_ dammit! When will he be allowed to live his life the way he wants to?

He doesn't know how long he sat there, but it's very dark out when he finally looks up again. The tears that were in his eyes earlier are dried up on his cheeks and his hair messy where his hands buried themselves. Viktor stands up and drags himself to his bedroom, soon throwing himself down onto the mattress. That's it. He's done. He doesn't need happiness. He doesn't _deserve_ it, nor will he ever find it. That, he is sure of.

He lays there until sleep consumes him, dragging him further into the darkness that he feels.

.

. . .

.

It's the sun bursting through his open windows that wakes him up from his dreamless slumber. Groaning, he sits up and stares at his surroundings before collapsing back onto the bed. He doesn't want to get up for the day. There's no point. It's the same routine he's been going through since he disappeared. Wake up, eat, go for a walk, avoid everyone he sees, go back home, eat again, go to sleep, repeat. Until he started going to the bar to see... _him..._ it's been the exact same way for a while now. Nothing new.

It's that very reason that makes him want to stay inside more than ever. He _doesn't_ want to see... _him._ Frankly, he doesn't want to see anyone. There's the chance that he'll be found. Then he'll be surrounded. And then he'll be attacked all over again.

Why is he getting attacked for a program he created on his own? How did this all start? _Why_ did this all start? What deity did he anger for all this to occur? Will anything ever go right for him ever again?

The last question is really the only question that he wished he could get an answer to. It's all he ever wants. Over this break of his, he's learned that not only does he not have any hobbies outside of skating, but he misses everyone that skated at the rink. His second home. His real family.

It's all been ripped away from him.

And all he did was let it happen.

 _How could he just let that happen?_

Viktor makes himself get up because otherwise he won't for the rest of the day. He makes himself get changed for the day before he pads out into the living space of his flat, heading for the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Keeping his mind clear, he pours the thick liquid into a mug and heads for the couch stationed in front of the TV. He flicks through the channels and settles on a random comedy show. It's a show he's seen before, and he doesn't mind it. So he sits there, drinking his coffee.

It's only until the device lights up with another notification that Viktor remembers that he owns a phone.

He's been forgetting a lot lately.

He settles his mug down on a coaster on the glass table and reaches for the device on the other side of the couch. Pressing the menu button, the screen comes to life displaying a few new notifications. One for new software... a few new followers trying to access his page... emails... and a text from Yuuri.

He sighs as his thumb hovers over that last particular notification. He wants to answer him. He really does. The fear is what holds him back from doing so. He doesn't want to see that yes, he was right all along. That Yuuri really was only in it for more dirt on him. That it was all one big lie.

But he's hopeful. Stupidly hopeful. So he opens the message.

He's glad that he did.

Sitting on his screen is a message from Yuuri. A message with context that Viktor has always wanted to read from someone in this dark, dark time.

 _I know you must hate me. I completely understand. But I wanted you to know that you can't get rid of me. I really do want to get to know the real Viktor... I'm sorry if you don't believe me, but it's the truth._

 _He sounds like an amazing person with an equally amazing dog._

It was so simple, but it makes Viktor the happiest he's ever been.

So he rushes to put a jacket on and runs out the door, heading for the bar. He needs to see Yuuri.

And the need carries him across the Upper East Side of Manhattan to the same bar Yuuri works at.

Viktor doesn't really know what he expected, but Yuuri is definitely not the one behind the counter at the moment. It's his friend - Phichit? He can't really remember - that's there instead. He heads over to the counter and sits down at one of the bar stools, ignoring the looks he's getting from the few customers at the tables around him. Bursting into the bar may not have been his best idea...

"What's up, hottie?"

Viktor's in the process of taking his jacket off when Phichit - he was right, that's what the name tag says - leans against the counter in front of him from the other side. He smiles in return and hangs the jacket on the hook underneath the countertop between his legs. "One Take It Easy Baby please."

Phichit snorts. "You sound like you really need it." He walks away and begins mixing the drink. As he's adding the contents of the drink into the mixer to shake, he glances over at Viktor and smiles. "Oh, and Yuuri isn't in today. He works tomorrow night, though. He had a few classes earlier today."

Of course he did. That's _exactly_ what Viktor should've thought of before running down here at who knows what time. Seriously, he hasn't actually checked a clock all day. It could be seven in the morning, and he wouldn't know. _Great job, Vitya. Just fantastic._

"Do you know where he lives?"

Phichit snorts again. "Duhh. He's my best friend. Of course I know where he lives. Why?" He seems to already know the answer as he asks.

"I need to see him."

"Hmm..." Phichit walks over with his drink, setting it down on a napkin in front of the Russian. "I _could_ tell you... but I'd rather not."

He's playing games. Viktor can tell from a mile away. He's not in the mood for games. Not when Yuuri's said so much to him, and he blatantly ignored him and tossed him aside. He needs to fix his mistakes and quickly. "But you do know where he lives."

"That's what I said."

"I think it would be in your best interest to tell me."

"Oh?" Phichit raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk visible across his lips. "Why's that?"

"As his best friend, it's your intent to make him happy. Correct?" Viktor is leaning against the counter now, aiming to get his full attention.

"Obviously."

"Good. As it should be. Now, I know for sure he's not in a very good mood at the moment. You can trust me on that. In order to make him happy, you should give me his address." That's... not really how he wanted to say that, but he'll make it work. He used to be amazing at persuading people.

"And how does giving the address to the one who made him upset make him happy? I haven't made that connection yet." There's a hint of anger in Phichit's eyes, but there's also a spark of something else that he can't quite pinpoint.

Ah, yes. Yuuri did tell him. Another part of the equation Viktor should've factored in. According to the one interaction he saw between them, he should've assumed they're good friends. He should've thought of that. Persuasion isn't going to work. He's going to need the truth. "Because I've made a lot of mistakes, some of them the same, I've burned bridges quickly, and I never seem to learn. I want to do one thing right. This is that one thing. It feels like the right decision. Whether I'll regret it later on or not, I want to discover on my own and through the right methods. I want to fix this the way it should be fixed."

Phichit says nothing, seeming to calculate everything that Viktor's thrown down on the table for him. It's a lot, yes, but it's the truth. It burns Viktor like acid to say out loud, especially since his biggest mistake has been trusting people who should never be trusted to begin with. Yuuri is different, though. Every interaction with Yuuri has been... the most fun he's ever had. He _needs_ it back like he needs to breathe.

"Okay. I'll tell you where he lives. On one condition." Phichit holds up his index finger, eyes fixated on Viktor's.

Viktor nods.

"You fix this exactly like you said you will. I have a good feeling about you. Don't make me think otherwise."

Viktor smiles at how protective he is over his friend. He's glad Yuuri has someone like that in his life. It's nice. He deserves it.

Viktor pulls out his phone as Phichit begins reading off Yuuri's address slowly, so he doesn't miss one part of it. Viktor types the fastest and most careful he's ever done before, reading it back to Phichit so he knows he has the correct information. After getting the confirmation that it's correct, Viktor throws down money for the drink and slips his jacket back on, soon running out the doors in pursuit of his one chance at happiness once more.

He can fix this.

No.

He _will_ fix this.

.

. . .

.

It's two in the morning when Viktor wakes up. He's dazed and confused as he looks at his surroundings. It's not his apartment. Where would he be if not at his own place? It takes a moment for everything to click... well, more like a snore coming from next to him that startles him.

He's not used to spending nights with Yuuri. It's been four months since he ran to Yuuri's apartment to fix the mess he made. Yuuri accepted him wholeheartedly, not deterred from the harsh words Viktor spat at him the day before he saw him. It's strange to him how easily they melded together after that. Yuuri came to Viktor as if they were meant to be. How odd indeed. Now, they spend almost every day together. The days they don't are only because Viktor doesn't want to be caught walking to Yuuri's apartment. If they catch him, it'll cause an uproar he doesn't want.

He's always been scared of that. Causing an uproar. Yuuri might possibly leave him if that happens. What would Viktor do then?

Shaking his head, Viktor gets up and walks over to the window that leads to the balcony. Yuuri's apartment is smaller than Viktor's, yet still rather spacious. He finds it homier than his place. He's grown to associate home as wherever Yuuri is. As long as the other male is there, he feels safe. Complete.

There's the sound of the sheets ruffling from behind him and small thuds that are muffled by the carpet. Viktor doesn't look over. Instead, Yuuri wraps his arms loosely around Viktor and leans his head on his shoulder. He doesn't say anything just groans in exhaustion. Viktor chuckles at the sound and leans his head against the top of Yuuri's.

"Y'know," Yuuri's voice is slurred with sleep, "you're my best friend."

That's it. That's all he says.

It's enough to send Viktor into an internal panic. It's embarrassing, yet adorable. There's a blush dusting his cheeks, one that he doesn't mind.

What Yuuri says is so much more than what his words mean. It's in the darkness of Yuuri's apartment illuminated by the city lights that Viktor realizes that this is what he's been looking for. This is love. This is what it means to what to devote yourself wholly to someone else.

"Yuuri... I love you."

It's incredible, amazing, spectacular... and truly delicate.

.

. . .

.

"Y'know, Nobunari, everyone thought he was done, but I think this is the happiness and most full of life he's ever been. I can't believe how incredibly he's skating this season. It's been _three years_. No one but him could pull off leaving for that long and coming back stronger than ever. Your thoughts?"

"You aren't wrong at all, Morooka! Viktor's skating is really powerful now! I can't wait to see how he finishes at this competition today."

 _"Next on the ice, Viktor Nikiforov representing Russia."_

Viktor shrugs out of the red and white jacket he's held onto for years and hands it to Yuuri, who stands on the other side of barrier watching him. Taking in a deep breath, he faces Yuuri with burning eyes and a bright smile.

Yuuri stares back, cheeks red from either the cold of the ice or embarrassment. They are on live TV anyway. "Um... you've got this! Your short was great and put you in first, so you just need to-"

"Yuuri." Viktor laughs as Yuuri stares at him dumbfoundedly, the burning in his cheeks even more present than before. "I don't need any of that. I just need you." Viktor glances down at his hands on the barrier and focuses on the gold shine coming from his right hand. He glances towards Yuuri's hand, the same gold shine present as well as he fidgets with his fingers. Smiling brighter than before, Viktor practically throws himself over the barrier to wrap his arms around Yuuri. He can feel Yuuri lean backwards like he's about to fall, but Viktor keeps them planted upright.

Before he would like, Viktor lets go and pushes himself across the ice towards the center. He will skate for Yuuri. He will show everyone that he's doing better than he ever was. He remembers the moment where they first met, said their first "I love you"s, exchanged the rings... There are so many memories he recalls as he stands in the center of the ice, the crowd dying in preparation for his music to begin.

The program he chose for his comeback season was meant to express everything he's felt in those few years he disappeared. The pain and sorrow of his short program leading to the happiness and explosion of life in his free program. He consulted Yuuri about all of it, made sure that the other designed his costumes specifically. It's all centered around Yuuri.

The best part of it all is that no one knows. No one could _possibly_ know. That's the thought that makes him the happiest. It's all a secret they've decided to keep to themselves. Yuuri, who stands in as his coach now, refuses to talk about their relationship in interviews, while Viktor keeps the conversation on his programs when he's done.

It's incredible to be experiencing so much all at once, and he lets his thoughts take over when the music begins.

It truly feels like the end of all the endings.


End file.
